Life Study
by Persephone Kore
Summary: 4th in Time's Riddle, complete. Cowritten with Alan Sauer. A disturbing visit from Lucius Malfoy and an incident involving a rogue Acromantula lead Tom to set about remedying Slytherin's damaged relations with the other Houses. Via a study group.
1. Enter Lucius

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Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series and universe belong to J. K. Rowling. We intend no undue claim nor any offense and are making no profit other than enjoyment. 

Authors' note: This is part of the Time's Riddle series, an AU starting after Chamber of Secrets. Previous stories are "Who We Are," "Trouble Brewing," and "Worth a Thousand Words." There is also a prequel by Alan, "The Potent but Terrible Solution."

Summary: A disconcerting visit from Lucius Malfoy and an incident involving a rogue Acromantula and inter-House cooperation lead Tom to set about remedying Slytherin's damaged relations with the other Houses. Via a study group.

**Life Study  
by Alan Sauer and Persephone  
Time's Riddle series  
Chapter 1**

"So." Startled by the smooth voice, Tom looked up from the book he'd sat down with after breakfast. The fair-haired man before him had a peculiar smile on his angular face. "I understand you have been putting my son in danger." 

Tom managed not to blink. The good mood he'd maintained all night and halfway to the breakfast table, courtesy of the picture album his Gryffindor friends had made him, had abruptly evaporated when out of the chaos of the Great Hall he'd picked the words "Sirius Black shredded the Fat Lady last night." He hadn't been able to reach Ginny or Harry through the press, and trudged back to the Slytherin common room with thoughts whirling.

His mood had further soured upon recognizing Lucius Malfoy, resplendent in black velvet robes, relaxing by the fire; he'd never met the man, but the blond hair, grey eyes, and stainless-steel arrogance were unmistakable. And the last shreds of what three hours before had been shaping up to be a wonderful day dried up and blew away when the older wizard brushed off his own son to address Tom. "Not by choice," he managed, after a moment.

The odd faint smile broadened into what was to Tom's eyes an equally peculiar full one. "Well, naturally not." Lucius seated himself across from Tom and offered his hand. "I'm sure it must be quite unnerving to find yourself so... targeted."

Tom took it, cautiously; Lucius' palm was warm and dry, when by rights it should have been clammy. "Gryffindor was attacked, not Slytherin, and even there Black never entered the tower."

"Even so -- you must have heard the rumors of his intent." 

"M--Draco was at pains to bring me up-to-date on recent history, yes." Tom cocked his head and added coolly "He seemed to know quite a bit more about Black's dealings with Voldemort than most people."

Lucius sniffed. "I should hope my son would be well informed regarding recent history. There are no excuses -- well," he amended with another smile, "there are very _few_ excuses for the lamentable lack of awareness shown by so many. I do realize you have a uniquely legitimate one."

Tom shrugged. "I'm a fast learner, and I read the newspapers. I understand you and Black were... colleagues."

Lucius's eyebrows shot up. "Colleagues?" His voice dripped distaste. "I can assure you that I have _never_ worked with Sirius Black."

"Shared interests, then." Tom allowed himself a dry smile. "But I think you'll find that _we_ have very little in common, Mr. Malfoy."

"I don't know what interests you have in mind, I'm afraid. What little I knew of Black's tended to be either dull or troublesome." Lucius leaned forward. "It would be quite the shame if _we_ found no common ground, though. One of Slytherin's brightest young stars is worth cultivating under any circumstances, and I'm aware of some of your... peculiar setbacks."

"Such as my father, for instance? Draco has given me to understand that a Muggle parent is considered a... setback... in some circles."

Lucius' eyes flickered. "I was referring, actually, to the difficulties of being displaced, with respect to your memories, and to your situation outside Hogwarts."

"I manage well enough. Tutoring for my weak subjects, and so forth, and the library carries several copies of the current textbooks. And I've managed to adapt rather well to the broomstick advances. I've come to value my self-sufficiency."

"You have weak subjects? I hadn't heard." Lucius sounded amused. "Self-sufficiency is... admirable, but you may eventually find that it does have certain limits, even for the best of us." He gave Tom a surprisingly warm smile. "Keep in mind, should you ever find yourself up against those limits, if you ever need anything... I am available. And generally capable of providing _some_ variety of assistance."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't keep a diary, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius blinked. 

And then he recovered his smile, if a slightly cooler one. "Have you been talking to the Weasley girl? I understand she has quite the imagination." He stood and offered Tom his hand again. "I have business to attend to, and a manhunt to spur -- but keep me in mind."

Tom shook the older man's hand as shortly as he could without seeming rude, and smiled thinly. "You've certainly given me a lot to think about. I won't keep you any longer." He watched Lucius leave the common room, watched the students' eyes follow him with awe, and then turn to regard Tom with new respect, and suppressed a shudder. 

"I thought he might come to talk to you." Tom looked up with a start to find Professor Snape looming over the back of his chair and scowling down his nose, arms folded. 

Tom's Head of House was considerably less pleasant in both aesthetic appearance and expression than Lucius Malfoy. Tom was nevertheless decidedly relieved to see him. 

"It... makes sense, I suppose," Tom said, subconsciously wiping his hand on his robes, "but that doesn't make it any more pleasant."

Keen black eyes studied him. "Stop that. Give me your hand." 

Tom blinked and extended it cautiously; Snape took his arm above the wrist, sniffed the palm, then tapped the wand he rarely used at the pulse point. "Sir, what are you --"

"Doing? Merely being cautious." Snape's eyes glittered. "You've demonstrated a penchant for tricks before."

Tom shrugged uncomfortably. "Just harmless ones. To be funny. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm not going to walk on eggshells just because people might think I'm following in--my--footsteps." He met Snape's eyes. "And I'm _not_ accepting any _help_ from Lucius Malfoy. I'll starve first."

"You're a proud one." Snape regarded him thoughtfully. "And, it appears, not too easily influenced. At least by... some parties. _Try_ to stay out of trouble."

He turned away in a swirl of black robes and a faint smell of potions ingredients and was greeted by a hiss that Tom understood to mean, "Trickss indeed. Now what about that snack?"

Tom blinked after Snape. Two very odd conversations one after the other, were they _trying_ to drive him mad? Well, Lucius Malfoy probably was. Disturbing thought. An exasperated, wordless hiss from the boa brought him back to himself. "Oh, right. I saved some rolls from breakfast." He fumbled in his pockets, and produced one. "Here you are."

The boa accepted it with a hissing laugh and swallowed it in short order. "Well, I meant to remind him _he'd_ promissed one, but as long as it'ss on your mind too...." 

Tom blinked. "Who, Snape? I didn't know you'd met yet. Or at least not that you were on snack terms with him. He doesn't like me much."

"We're both a little hard to misss, and he does like ssnakess well enough. Not jusst for shed sskin, either! Though that didn't hurt." Tom remembered that the boa _had_ shed a few days ago; he was still rather shiny. "He'll come around."

"Mm. I won't tell him you eat with the Gryffindors sometimes, if he hasn't already noticed; that'll win neither of us points. Go on and beg, then, if you were going to; I think I ought to find Ginny, or somebody."

"He sstarted out grumbling about my coming in with Harry Potter," the boa hissed cheerfully. "You did the ssame and he'ss checking you over for contact sspells."

Tom laughed. "Well, if he's willing to look past that and still feed you, maybe there's hope for him yet."

The boa twisted his neck and eyed Tom consideringly. "Oh, that'ss right, you humanss can't ssmell. He's not too ssure of you, but he _knowss_ he doessn't trusst Luciuss." He slithered back down from where he'd propped his coils on the arm of the chair and set off after Snape. "Sssee you later, amigo."

"That makes two of us," Tom muttered. The common room felt stifling, suddenly, even for a dungeon; a walk would clear his head. He could go skip rocks in the lake, maybe.

He glanced toward the fire and wondered when the younger Malfoy had left. It was interesting, he thought as he slipped out into the corridor, that the boa thought Snape had been checking for _Tom's_ benefit. Malfoy had still been in the room then, hadn't he...?

"Hsst." He looked up, sharply -- that hiss wasn't Parseltongue, just a purely human noise meant to get attention -- and Harry stepped out of a shadow. "I heard Lucius Malfoy say he wanted to talk to you." A slightly awkward pause. "Are you all right?"

"Unnerved. He wanted to present an open-ended offer of help considering my 'circumstances.'" Tom paused. "Which I'm not going to touch, though I'm not sure he knows that."

Harry grimaced. "Good. ...I reckoned you'd know better than to trust presents from him. I just wasn't sure what he might try."

Tom smiled crookedly. "You know, this sounds a lot like the conversation I just had with Snape. _He_ checked me over for contact-spells from shaking Mr. Malfoy's hand."

"Sounds like -- what?! _Snape_?" Harry spluttered for a moment, then got himself back under control. "Well -- good for him, then." He looked as if the words tasted bad.

"The boa just went to cadge snacks off him, in point of fact," Tom said, straight-faced.

"I didn't know they got along."

"Neither did I. Apparently Snape likes him well enough to overlook him coming in with you. Pity he doesn't hold me in the same regard." Tom chuckled. "Of course, the boa's never spilled anything on him."

"Best pictures Colin Creevey's ever taken." Harry grinned and shook his head. "I knew the boa had got just about everybody feeding him past House rivalries, but _Snape_? I'll have to see that to believe it, sorry." His eyes focused past Tom suddenly and he muttered in a low voice, "And I should know better than to ask for that sort of thing...."

"Why? ...Oh." Tom turned to find Snape walking back down toward the Slytherin dorms, the boa coiled around his shoulders and torso and munching happily on a rather large pastry.

The professor sneered as he drew closer. "Are you lost, Potter?"

"No." Harry watched a little dazedly as the boa took another piece of the pastry from Snape's fingers and swallowed it.

"Hm. I understand that you are partly responsible for this creature's presence here. Would that all the coincidences you seem to attract so effortlessly were so beneficial."

"That," Harry said with a bit of difficulty but utter sincerity, "would be nice."

"I notice," Snape said sternly, "that the boa has on occasion been eating with the Gryffindors at meals. If I hear that your housemates have been mistreating him...."

Harry gaped; the boa laughed hysterically. "We weren't planning on it," Harry managed after a moment.

"See that this state of affairs continues. The last time our House had such a mascot, I did not have the means to enforce such a guarantee." Snape eyed Harry darkly. "In any case, considering the hour I feel it is safe to say that you have not yet begun the essay I assigned for Monday; perhaps you ought to make a start on it while you still have time to produce something legible. Riddle..." Snape regarded Tom with what on another man might have been an uncertain expression, and then sighed. "Find something to do. Preferably mayhem-free."

*****

Later, after Harry had made a dazed journey back to the Gryffindor common room, he collapsed in a chair next to Ron. "The boa seems to have become the official Slytherin mascot," he said by way of greeting.

"It wasn't already? 'S on all their banners."

"Yes, but not this one specifically.... Snape seemed to like him. He gave him food." 

"...He does know it's a friend of yours, right?"

"He said it was too bad all the coincidences I attract aren't that beneficial." Harry sighed. "And I had to _agree_ with him."

"Oh." Ron considered this. "Well, that's good, isn't it? He could've made a stink about it, and all. Bet the boa's horrified, though."

"The boa," Harry replied, looking somewhat disgusted, "likes Snape, too."

"No! You're having me on, aren't you? I mean, Snape? I thought even a snake'd have better taste."

Harry wanted to object to the "even" but was in no state to do so. "Snape did give him food," he said, trying hard to think of this as making things better. "And the boa... was climbing on him. Hitched a ride back from the kitchens, it looked like." 

"You told the boa all about Potions, didn't you? I mean, does it know who Snape is? I mean, there's such a thing as principles, aren't there?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, looking rather unhappy. "I'd have thought Snape not liking him on my account would be more the problem, but... I don't think classes and house points mean very much to the boa. He knows I don't like Snape and he doesn't like me, but I'm not sure he sees where this ought to mean anything to him unless Snape were actually attacking me or something." He sighed. "But I wouldn't really have thought they'd get that... cosy."

"Well, I should think not! See if it gets any more rolls from me, I can tell you. Snape, of all people." Ron paused in mid-dudgeon. "Does Tom know?"

"He knew before I did." Harry considered this. "It could be good for him, actually. Since the boa spends more time down there...."

Ron thought for a moment. "You know, it'd almost be worth it to see Malfoy's face, I mean, really, this is about the ultimate one-up, isn't it? And if Snape starts leaving Tom alone, he'll probably lighten up on Ginny as well." To Harry's dismay, Ron seemed to be developing full-fledged second thoughts about the matter.

"I don't know. Malfoy'll probably start in about Slytherin stealing my pet or something."

"The boa's not a pet. You've reminded people of that how many times?"

"That wouldn't stop Malfoy."

"Snape might, though, I mean, if he was that impressed with it, it couldn't be the pet of a Gryffindor. I mean, that's what he'd think, wouldn't he? Snape coming down on Malfoy, I'd love to see that for once."

Harry blinked. That was an appealing vision. "I... see your point." He sighed. "The boa was still my friend first, though. He even scared Dudley." 

"Well, from all you've said of him, a sick flobberworm would scare your cousin. And it's not like it won't still be your friend, right? It'll just... also be Snape's. You'll have a friend in common with Snape." Ron paused at the enormity of this vision. "That'll be kind of odd."

"That's... an understatement." Harry looked as if it the idea might be not only odd, but possibly somewhat indigestible.

Ron patted his friend on the shoulder. "Well, now you know how I felt when Ginny started working with Tom. And that turned out all right."

"Tom is a lot nicer than Snape." 

"Yeah, well, the boa isn't your baby sister, either."

Harry gave a snort of laughter despite himself. "Okay. Point taken." He sighed and shook his head, looking bemused. "I guess he must not smell too bad to a snake, even if he doesn't wash his hair."

"The boa spends a lot of time down in the dungeons hunting rats. He probably has different standards for smell than we do."

"This is true. I have never sniffed Scabbers and suddenly felt hungry."

Ron frowned. "Especially not lately. I wish I knew what's wrong with him, he's lost almost all his hair and he won't leave the dormitories. --You did tell the snake coils off, right? Scabbers has enough to worry about with Hermione's mad cat."

"I warned him off all the pets, don't worry. He even brought Trevor back to Neville the other day. Very grumpily, and Trevor was in a state of shock for hours, but still."

"I wondered why Neville managed to keep him around all day. Do you suppose there's another kind of rat tonic we haven't tried?"

"I don't know any. Maybe Madam Pomfrey does. Or Hagrid."

Ron kicked at a crack in the floor. "Madam Pomfrey said he was probably just getting old, and Hagrid offered to take him on a hippogriff ride to perk him up."

"Oh." Harry privately agreed that it might be age, but didn't say so. "I can't see that helping, no."

"Probably be too much for his heart, a ride on one of those."

"Too much for most people. Although Tom says your sister is thinking about trying to talk Hagrid into giving the second-years a crack at it."

"Yeah, well, Ginny's bonkers when it comes to that class."

Harry looked mischievous. "I think Tom agrees with you."

Now it was Ron's turn to look as though an idea was indigestible. "Well... he can try talking her out of it, then, I've been hit with enough pillows lately."

"What have you been saying to her?"

"Well, she's been thinking about seeing if Tom can visit sometime this summer."

Harry blinked. "Hadn't thought of that. I suppose they are getting on well."

"Yes, well, it's still _bizarre_."

"The idea of having a Slytherin over? Want me to come keep an eye on him for you?"

"Hope you'll be there anyway. But... yeah. I mean, Weasleys've always been in Gryffindor. Mostly, anyway."

They hoped he'd be there. That was... warming. "Tom isn't a Weasley," Harry pointed out with a hint of a grin.

"Ginny said that too. After hitting me with a pillow. You're not coordinating your lines beforehand, are you?"

"No. But I'll hit you with a pillow, if you like," Harry offered generously.

Ron snorted. "No thank you."

"Seriously...." Harry tilted his head back and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. "It was... I hadn't ever really expected to be friends with a Slytherin, after everything I'd heard..." He snorted. "And after meeting Malfoy. I'm telling you, he's a thinner, wizard Dudley." He didn't mention the Hat. "After what happened, though, I couldn't just ignore Tom, could I -- and -- he's all right." A wry smile. "And if I can decide that somebody who could have grown up to be Voldemort is all right, I think the Burrow can probably survive a few days' visit from a Slytherin."

Ron grumbled. "Yeah, well, you're probably right. As long as it isn't the entire summer or something." 

*****


	2. Acromantula Rodeo

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction based on the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling. No undue claim nor any material profit is intended._

**Life Study  
by Alan Sauer and Persephone  
Chapter 2**

"I don't think," Tom had told Ginny later on Sunday afternoon, "that Lucius Malfoy is very happy about our talking to each other now." 

"I heard he came to visit the school." She hadn't wanted to see him and, thankfully, hadn't had to. "Did you talk to him?"

"Not willingly."

"Yes, then."

"Yes. He was... very... nice, in the most disturbing way possible. I like to think I'd have known better without warnings, but I'm glad to have had them anyway."

"Just because you can figure it out on your own is no reason not to let people make it easier for you."

Tom grinned at her. "Now have I been showing you the good side of Slytherin, or are you quoting the twins?"

"There's a good side of Slytherin?" She ducked as he pretended to swat at her with a roll of parchment.

"It's easier to find than the good side of Hagrid this week! Did he really get hold of a litter of graphorns?"

Ginny shook her head seriously. "No."

"What is it really then?"

"Three litters."

"I should have known."

*****

"I cannot _believe_ we're studying the care and feeding of baby graphorns in second year."

"Cheer up," Ginny advised him. "They're very useful. If anybody tries to hex you, you can hide behind yours. They deflect spells." 

"That's not much good if you get _gored_ instead!" 

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, then whirled in alarm as one of the purple-gray infants broke its student's too-ginger hold and bolted past them. 

"GINNY!" Hagrid bellowed. "Can yeh chase that one down? I'm a little busy over here." As he was assisting with about four students' assigned graplets, this was indeed the case. 

Ginny looked at hers, then at Tom. "Can you...?" 

Tom looked from her to the graphorns and back up again. "If you leash it." 

She looped a sort of harness around its neck and horns, then grabbed another leash and dashed in pursuit of the fugitive. Fortunately they weren't terribly fast at first, and were relatively easily distracted if they had nothing to chase. She was carefully circling it in hopes of a non-alarming approach and had almost reached it when it made a bizarre screeching noise and started to run _again_.

She dived for it and got hold of a horn before she heard the shouts from her classmates. She glanced over her shoulder and stared, eyes wide.

There was an enormous spider emerging from the Forbidden Forest, and there was no way on earth she was going to be able to get past it.

After a second's deliberation, she let the graphorn go. She was hardly going to be able to haul it back with her and needed the mobility... and it might as well be allowed to save itself.

To her considerable astonishment, instead of running away, this time it ran _toward_ the acromantula and plunged its small horns into one foot. 

The spider's head plunged down and snatched the squealing creature up.

It seemed that graphorn hide didn't become essentially impenetrable until later in life.

"Get inside, all of yeh!" 

"But Ginny's--" 

"GET INSIDE," Hagrid roared. "I'll try ter...." 

That was sensible. If she remembered correctly, most spells were hard to perform on acromantulae.... She lost her train of thought upon realizing in horror that it was making intelligible comments about how tasty the class looked.

The drained body of the graphorn was flung to the ground, and the spider turned to look at her classmates. Ginny debated whether to run -- and if so, _where_. She'd risk setting off the chase instinct, but that might keep it away from the rest of the class....

Through its legs, she could see enough activity to realize that the class had almost all reached safety, although Hagrid's hut was probably a bit crowded. Especially since most of the graphorns were also in there.

The spider turned to hunt down one of the ones that wasn't, and Ginny took the opportunity to scurry a little closer to the hut. Unfortunately, this also meant closer to the spider, and one of the eight eyes caught her motion. 

"Silly little creature," it clicked. "What do you think you're doing?" It started towards her.

She jerked out her wand, edging sideways. "Stupefy!" ...That didn't work. 

One of the graphorns dashed past her; the acromantula pursued it for the moment, since it was moving faster and more likely to get away. Ginny tried to throw herself out of the spider's path and landed hard on the ground -- still with a foot coming towards her. She got to her feet, looked around wildly at the multitude of approaching feet, and jumped for the nearest ankle. 

She was almost surprised to find herself clinging to it all through the next step. She'd have expected it to notice her -- perhaps it was too strong to care? -- or that she might miss. She tried to shinny higher, hampered by the downward-pointing slick hairs. They were sharp on the ends, pricking her face and arms and making her hold slippery. 

*****

Those of the class who had fought for positions by the windows were trying frantically to figure out where she had gone.

"Where is she?"

"Did it step on her?" 

*****

Ginny, of course, had no idea of this. Her world had narrowed to trying to climb a slippery, prickly pole that swung and swayed maddeningly over the ground. She wrapped a bit of her robe sleeves around her hands and made slightly better progress, finally arriving at the top joint of the leg almost exhausted. 

Squinting cautiously through the hair plastered over her eyes, she could see Hagrid running around bellowing at the spider. She wasn't quite sure what he was saying, or what it was saying back, because she was so tired her ears were ringing.

The joint wasn't stable, though; she couldn't stay here. Turning around as best she could so that her back was to the body, she took hold of the hairs and started using them to climb down. The places they'd pricked her stung; she wasn't sure whether it was with sweat or venom. 

Her feet finally touched an angle, and she looked back and down to find that she had reached the body. She half-fell onto it, wobbling and landing hard as she nearly stepped on an eye at one edge, and narrowly avoided missing it entirely and landing back on the ground. Sprawled on the rounded back with her sleeves over her hands, however, Ginny finally found the chance to relax a little. Relatively speaking. She could rest her shaking muscles, anyhow.

Ginny folded her arms together and buried her face in them for a moment. She was _riding_ an acromantula. What in heaven's name was she supposed to do now? It wasn't as if she had reins -- not that it would care -- and it seemed very unlikely to respond to voice commands. And how on earth could she get down?

She grabbed hold of more hairs again as it jolted. Was it trying to shake her off, or was that random? 

And where was Hagrid now? She dared to raise her head and look for him; he was back near the hut, and the spider was after another graphorn. One that had sense enough to run _away_ this time. "Good thinking, Ginny!" Hagrid shouted as he spotted her. 

Ginny had her doubts about this.

*****

"Didn't you _get_ her?" Several of the Gryffindors sounded a bit hysterical about this. Tom was trying not to, and not succeeding very well. 

"Couldn' reach her. She's climbed on top of it, though, so at least it can' reach her either," Hagrid panted. 

"She -- climbed -- it?" 

"Yes." Hagrid looked at the creature and shook his head as he spoke, voice sounding pained. "Goin' ter have ter put it down, somehow. Rogue one, that is. Maybe somethin' juicy -- drugged or poisoned."

Tom wondered how you could have a rogue acromantula. Wasn't their _instinct_ to eat people? 

Hagrid somehow managed to arrange to get a large haunch of something raw and drippy delivered by the house-elves -- it appeared with a bang a few yards from the cottage -- and threw open an aquarium of sorts to lift, with both huge hands, a blobby-looking thing with short legs and a long, pointy snout that dripped something onto the floor. Everyone moved back. 

They moved back further upon noticing that the drip was sizzling.

Tom gulped and slipped out the door when Hagrid opened it. He was thinking irritably about Gryffindor's reputation for _courage_ and weren't any of the students in there friends of Ginny's when Colin burst out and nearly ran into him, having been caught behind the press. 

"Will yeh get back inside!" Hagrid snapped at them, striding over to the haunch of meat and poking the sharp creature's nose into it. He squeezed. The meat made an odd noise much like the drip on the floor.

"There's got to be something we can do," Colin said desperately. He was clutching his camera, wand wedged into one hand next to it, which didn't seem likely to be particularly helpful.

"Yeh can get out of the way!" 

"Will it come after this?" Tom asked. "It seems more interested in things that run away."

"It better... this'll smell good... an' I might be able ter lure its attention over here." 

*****

Ginny was half-sitting up, panting for breath and listening to the spider gloat about defying Aragog's admonitions about territory and bowling past everything that should have kept it bounded. She finally cut in with "What about that one over there? It looks fat and slow." That one was, as it happened, the fastest graphorn in the class, which the acromantula discovered to its fury when its prey escaped into the forest. 

"Little idiot mammal! Dare trying to trick me -- dare -- I will have you down from there eventually and suck _your_ juices!" 

*****

"Did you hear her try to trick it?" Tom asked Colin in an undertone. 

"I haven't heard her say _anything_." 

"If it won't believe her...."

They saw Ginny look their direction while Hagrid continued squeezing what had to be venom into the meat. The creature he was squeezing was starting to snuffle complainingly; Hagrid was murmuring promises of dinner to it. It snatched a bite of the haunch while he was transferring it to another point, earning itself a light smack on the long side of the snout.

She scowled -- at least her expression changed -- and pointed sharply at them and then at the hut before turning and grabbing a tight hold of the spider's hairs again.

"Maybe we could tell her what we're trying to do?"

"How're yeh planning that? The spider can hear yeh, and I don't think yer going ter get an owl up ter it!"

Colin looked doubtful. "I _might_ be able to climb it...."

"No! Get back inside, both of yeh. Now." 

Tom gulped and stared at the spider. If Hagrid was warning them off from a monster.... Of course, even Hagrid could hardly ignore it when it said it wanted to eat them.... 

"I think I can get a message to her," he said suddenly. "I need a quill and parchment though...." 

Colin looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "How are you planning to _get_ it to her?" 

"I've been working on a charm to write at a distance -- I don't have to have charmed the target surface too anymore -- maybe if I can get it to show up on the spider's back...." 

"In black ink?"

Tom paused, then moved more quickly toward the door. "Has anybody got any chalk?"

Chalk was, after some confusion and a good deal of trouble convincing people he wanted it, produced. Tom was uncomfortably aware of the fascinated stares as he pressed the tip of his wand onto the wall, muttered to it, and started scrawling with the chalk. Especially when the chalk-lines disappeared.

*****

Ginny blinked as white powder started appearing on the spider's back.

"GINNY," it began. "Can you get the acr," the last three letters were crossed out, "spider to go for the meat out there? Hagrid poisoned it." 

Ginny considered this while the acromantula ranted further about how it was never going to believe a word she said again, then leaned forward. "Well, you _should_. There's meat out there --" she pointed -- "that looks really tasty and can't run away," she swayed and clutched the hairs while the spider turned to eye it askance, "but they've poisoned it," she added. "Because they think you're a thief." 

She was half expecting the whole thing to backfire. Instead the spider made a sneering sort of click, turned the rest of the way, and plunged toward the haunch. Ginny clung to it for dear life until it had sucked all the moisture from the meat... and swayed... and fallen down with all its legs crumpled.

Then she relaxed her grip, rubbed her cramped, stinging hands, and considered in a distant sort of way the possibility that she should try to climb down, versus the possibility that if she did, her legs would crumple and she would fall and break both her ankles.

As it turned out, she didn't have to. Hagrid came and lifted her down and carried her like a baby back into the hut. 

Tom scooted over as soon as he saw her. "Ginny! Are you okay? Did you get the message? What were you thinking climbing on top of that spider like that?"

Ginny turned her head to look down at him as Hagrid tried to shoo most of the crowd out of the way so she could breathe, despite the fact that in his arms she was above most of their heads. It took her a moment to assemble her thoughts. "I'm not sure, yes, and mostly that I didn't want to get stepped on."

"That was smart, it was," Hagrid added. "Surprised yeh could get all the way up there, but it kept it from bein' able ter bite yeh, too." He cleared a space around a chair and set her tenderly in it. 

"Well, um, good. I wasn't sure that would work, and then it almost didn't. Just lucky somebody had chalk. And... well, that was really brave of you."

Ginny rubbed her hands more and winced, then took hold of the seat of the chair due to an uneasy feeling that she might be going to fall off it. "Thanks. I don't think it was, though. I was panicking." 

"I dunno, most people who panic tend to freeze, that I've seen. A panic reaction of 'do exactly the right thing in the situation at hand' seems a lot better, to me."

Ginny laughed shakily. "It would've looked really stupid if I'd fallen off, though." She closed her eyes and tried to convince herself that the chair was not swaying. Or, for that matter, rounded. "Thanks for the message." 

"It was the only thing I could think of. It was supposed to be a way of passing notes in class without actually, you know, passing them."

"Oh." She thought about this for a moment and decided perhaps it was just as well she hadn't first seen the effect in ink on parchment. "I'd say not to say that around a teacher, but I guess Hagrid won't mind."

Tom laughed. "Well, at least I'd gotten the bugs worked out. I used to have to prepare the receiving surface too, and that wouldn't have worked very well here."

"Not really, no." She looked at the red marks on her hands, noticed they were a little swollen, and decided against feeling her face. "And then you had to go work another bug in...."

"You were the one who insisted on making the only available surface a spider's back. I had nothing to do with that one."

"You ought to be proud of me. It said it wouldn't believe a word I said from now on so I told it not to eat the bait."

Tom snickered. "A ploy worthy of a Slytherin, truly."

Ginny swatted at him half-heartedly amid squawks from her Housemates. 

"Hey, you asked for that!" 

"I know."

"Yeh should get ter Madam Pomfrey," Hagrid told her, on his way to return the odd little venomous creature to its tank. "And class dismissed, I think that's enough today." 

The class agreed fervently with this opinion and poured out of the hut, giving the spider a wide berth. A few lingered around Ginny when they realized she wasn't moving very quickly or certainly.

"You need help?" Colin asked anxiously. "Are you hurt? I mean, besides...." He gestured at the prickled places. 

"I'm okay... I think. Just shaky. And I got too used to the spider moving."

"You know," Tom said thoughtfully, "it's too bad you didn't get a picture of Ginny the Spider Wrangler, Colin. I bet the rest of your house would've gotten a kick out of it."

"I did. Through the window, while you were writing on the wall. I didn't see what else I could do at the time." 

Ginny had to stop and lean on the doorframe, as laughing overbalanced her. "Ron's g-going to be horrified...."

"Fred and George are going to want to throw a party in your honor, though, I bet."

She looked at her hands and laughed ruefully. "More likely they're going to want to go pluck the spider-hairs or something before anybody gets rid of it. I wonder if you could core a wand with one."

"Are acro... big spiders magical enough?"

"I have no idea."

Colin looked at her somewhat askance. "Would you _want_ to? Do those hurt? Are you sure we shouldn't carry you?"

"I can walk." 

"That wasn't the question." 

Ginny took this to indicate that she should try to speed up a little. She wasn't _hurt_, just still shaky from ebbing adrenaline. Or something. 

"I'm okay, really. Just... having it all sink in." 

Colin looked as if he might be seriously considering picking her up anyway. At this point, however, they were interrupted by a shout of, "GINNY!" as Ron came pelting toward them from the main building. "Ginny!" he panted as he reached them. "I heard -- something -- class -- are you okay?" 

"Apart from a sudden attack of Gryffindor heroism, she seems to be," Tom said dryly.

"Huh?" Ron took his sister's wrists and inspected her hands and face anxiously. "What happened to your face?" 

"I think I'm coming down with the measles," Ginny replied, straight-faced. 

"You can't, you've already had -- _Ginny_...." 

Tom snickered. "Look toward Hagrid's. Your sister decided to take an impromptu riding lesson."

Ginny pulled one of her hands free and wiped a sleeve across her face. "The spider hairs are prickly." 

Ron obediently stared toward the collapsed spider and turned a disturbing shade of pale green.

"She's all right mostly," Colin put in reassuringly. He added, somewhat less so, "At least that's what she says."

"You rode... an acromantula...." Ron sounded rather faint. "You should -- uh --" He appeared to make a desperate sort of recovery as he dragged his eyes away from the heap of spider and back to Ginny. "You should get that looked at," he decided, and then scooped her up and started for the infirmary at a pace that forced the two second-year boys to trot to keep up.

"You know," Ginny protested without any real expectation of being listened to, "I can walk." 

"He knows," Colin told her a bit breathlessly. "He saw you. I don't think he's planning to let you, though."

*****


	3. Birth of a Notion

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction based on the work of J. K. Rowling. No undue claim nor any material profit is intended._

**Life Study  
by Alan Sauer and Persephone  
Chapter 3**

Ron finally plunged into the infirmary and was promptly scolded by Madam Pomfrey for running. 

"I wasn't running."

"You were walking entirely too fast for indoors, then -- though I suppose I can excuse you; I did hear what happened. Here, give her here --"

"She's going to be all right, isn't she?" Tom asked. "I mean, she seemed okay except for the rash and nerves."

"Acromantula hairs are envenomed," Madam Pomfrey said absently as she bustled. "Rather more irritating than those on some of the smaller spiders that'll give you a rash. It's not strong venom, though," she added, seeing the looks on their faces. "Easy enough to counter, and it wouldn't be likely to kill her anyway. Leave scars, maybe, if they were untreated." She dabbed something on Ginny's face, and the spots underneath it faded.

"Why," Ron asked faintly, "were you riding that... thing, Ginny?"

"Because it was going to either step on me or eat me otherwise, and I didn't want it to." She paused. "It wasn't exactly something I had been planning."

"Couldn't you have gone inside?" Ron asked a bit plaintively.

"I would," Ginny replied, eyes closed against the dabbing, "have _loved_ to."

"The acro-thing was between her and the shed."

"Acromantula," Ginny said absently. 

"Why wasn't she with the rest of the class?" Ron sounded as if he thought this might somehow be Tom's fault. Or possibly Colin's, but that seemed less likely.

"I was chasing a loose graphorn." 

"Well, Hagrid had us working with baby graphorns," Colin began, "and yeah, one got loose."

"And it wasn't really Hagrid's fault either," Tom said. "He was wrestling four of them at the time."

Colin added, "And it wasn't Tom's graphorn that got loose. She handed him hers on a leash, too." 

Ron looked slightly disoriented at this chain of defense. "The acromantula was his fault," he muttered under his breath. 

Tom blinked. "I don't see how. It came right out of the Forest, not his creature pens."

Ron paused. "Never... mind." 

"Try asking Harry," advised Colin. "I bet he knows."

Ron sighed and waited until Madam Pomfrey disappeared to deal with minor puncture wounds that had apparently resulted from being crammed into a small hut with frightened graphorns. "The oldest one in there used to be his _pet_. Harry and I, er, met it once. Don't ask." He punctuated this with a shudder.

"Oh," Tom said. Something tickled the back of his mind about that, but he shied away from it. "You'd think he'd have trained it better than to attack people."

"It said he did. That wasn't it, its eyes are clear. The old one's blind now."

"Oh. So where'd that one come from? Did he have two of them? ...It _said?_"

"They talk," Ginny pointed out. "Couldn't you hear it?"

"No, I was trying to keep hold of two graphorns in a crowd of panicked students. What did it say?"

"Mostly that the assorted students and graphorns looked tasty." Ginny shuddered. "And then it yelled at me after I told it to chase Toby. The fat one that can still outrun all the others," she added explanatorily to Ron. "And good job, Tom. With the graphorns."

"Oh," Tom said, his ears turning pink. "Well, I wasn't really thinking, I just didn't have time for them to act up."

"They could probably tell you weren't going to put up with anything." She grinned at him. "It doesn't work on Fred and George, by the way. Except occasionally for Mum."

"Well, I didn't think it would. So the trick to magical creatures is to be utterly terrified of something that isn't them?"

Ginny laughed helplessly. "Not... necessary," she finally spluttered. "At least not usually." 

Two heads adorned with unruly hair poked into the room and, seeing that Madam Pomfrey was not in the immediate vicinity to shoo away the excess visitors, were promptly followed by the rest of Harry and Hermione. 

"Hi. Are you all right?"

"I brought you your textbooks." 

This set Ginny laughing again.

Tom looked from her to the new arrivals. "She's, um, a little... giggly."

"I can see that," Harry said cautiously. 

"I'm fine," Ginny said with as much dignity as she could muster. "It was funny."

"Textbooks are funny?"

"It was just... very Hermione. As a greeting."

Tom considered that. She had a point.

"She rode an acromantula," said Ron a bit numbly, "and she's _giggly_."

Harry yelped. "She _what?_"

"One came out of the Forest and attacked our Care of Magical Creatures class. I was away from the rest of the class and it got between me and the hut."

"And somehow she decided it would be a good idea to climb it."

Ginny glared briefly at Tom. "It was going to step on me!" 

"So... you decided to return the favor."

Ginny giggled again. "Something like that. I couldn't get away, so the only thing left to do was grab hold and try to get somewhere it couldn't reach."

"This isn't _funny_," Ron muttered.

"I was terrified at the time."

"Well, I suppose I wouldn't have been able to get you that message if you hadn't been sitting relatively still. I hope Colin's picture turns out."

"I'm sure it will." Colin sounded rather confident.

"I don't think the spider could have heard me if I hadn't been sitting on it. The graphorns kept squealing." 

"_What_ picture?" Ron and Harry broke in.

"Oh, Colin got a picture of Ginny on the acrobatty while we were all in the hut."

"Acromantula," Ginny murmured. "I thought you'd memorized the textbook, Tom."

"I did. It's just funnier this way."

Hermione looked at him with some surprise. "How did you make it stay open?"

"I hit it with a stick. Over and over again. And stayed within easy walking distance of Madam Pomfrey's bandages."

"Hagrid says you have to stroke them," Harry put in. 

"I think that only works when you've got hands as big as he does. Nearly took my fingers off when I tried. Anyway, finally I took it out on my broom over the moat, and told it if it didn't behave it'd have to learn to swim."

Hermione looked somewhat appalled. "But you're using a school copy, aren't you? You can't drop it in the moat."

"I didn't end up having to."

"...I finally gave up and checked out some of the other references." She relented. "Did it behave after that?" 

"Mostly. I kept a bucket of water on the desk next to it, and that seemed to help."

"That was resourceful."

"It wasn't much help after all, as it turns out. Hagrid grades mostly on performance."

"But at least you got to read the book!" 

"...Yes, I suppose so." Tom raised his eyebrows helplessly at Ginny -- who started laughing again.

Harry cleared his throat. "So how IS class going when it isn't being invaded by giant spiders?"

"Oh, much better now. I think I may actually pass. Ginny's been supervising me in some extra credit."

"We've heard. It's been the subject of an astonishing amount of debate over meals." 

"...Oh?"

Ginny got control of herself and shrugged. "Some people think it's a bad idea."

"I suppose they haven't considered that flunking out of Hogwarts is the kind of thing that might make somebody frustrated enough to turn evil," Tom said, grinning.

Ginny swatted in something vaguely resembling Tom's general direction, rather ineffectively since she had her eyes shut at the time. 

"They're silly. Something about thinking you're using me to improve your grades... which obviously is partly the _point_ for Care of Magical Creatures, but they're apparently missing the fact that I think it's fun and for at least half our other classes it'd probably be the other way around. Of course, one of _your_ housemates accused me of plotting to get you killed, so...."

Tom snickered. "Aww, and here's me thinking they didn't care."

"I'm afraid I was too dumbfounded to deny it properly, unfortunately...."

"Actually, they probably would've taken denial as proof you really were. Most Slytherins don't tend to remember that Gryffindors don't generally have the time of day for subtlety."

Ginny opened eyes that looked suddenly very mischievous. "Well, that could be an advantage, couldn't it?"

"Oh, definitely. And that was the toned-down version, usually it goes something like --" Tom stuck his nose in the air as if he were smelling something vile, and affected a clipped upper-class accent. "The Gryffindor mind is incapable of true subtlety, you know. Associating with Muggles and Mudbloods dulls the intellect, everyone knows that." He grinned and winked at Hermione. Ron grimaced.

"Which is why I'm ahead of Malfoy in _every_ class, I'm sure," Hermione responded sweetly in between snickers. 

"You're ahead of everybody in every class," Harry pointed out. "It's not exactly personal." 

"He thinks it is. If he wants to take it as an insult, I don't really mind."

"Hermione found a point of agreement with Malfoy," Ginny said gravely. "Any other portents of impending doom lately?"

Ron snorted. "We have Professor Trelawney, and you have to ask?"

"Giant spiders aren't portents of impending doom?" Colin asked wryly.

"I think they usually _are_ the impending doom, Colin."

"Except when they're decoys," Harry murmured.

"Decoys?"

Harry sighed and glanced around for Madam Pomfrey. "You know Hagrid got expelled? It was because the, ah, other you claimed Aragog -- that was his first pet acromantula -- had killed Moaning Myrtle when it was the basilisk. As it turns out, Aragog doesn't eat humans for Hagrid's sake, but, um, if you get close enough to his descendants, he doesn't think it's quite fair to stop _them_."

Tom's face went blank. "Oh."

"He got sent to Azkaban for part of last year over it." 

Ginny flinched.

Tom's face went even blanker, if possible. "Well. That... explains a couple of things. I'm surprised he's giving me a chance."

"He's not holding it against you," Harry said awkwardly. "I mean... it's uncomfortable... but I don't think he would."

"No, he's been... nicer than I expected. For a while now. But sometimes the way he looks at me... And earlier when Ron said he'd had a pet acromantula, I... almost remembered something, but I didn't want to pursue it."

"...That could be worrying. But," Harry shrugged. "If I'm a Parselmouth because of Voldemort not quite killing me, it'd be stupid to think your remembering a few things was all that ominous."

"Well, I didn't think it meant anything beyond being a disturbing leftover memory. It doesn't _need_ to mean anything beyond being a disturbing leftover memory to be, well, disturbing. In first person, yet."

"I guess not." Harry sighed. "Anyway, he let Aragog loose in the Forbidden Forest and then apparently found him a wife named Mosag. Aragog said he still visits them sometimes."

"Thus Ginny's new friend."

Ron leaned over his sister's bed and told her earnestly, "You do realize you're insane, right?"

"I'm also neither squished nor eaten. I'll manage." 

Tom rubbed his arms. "I can get around the idea of giant bugs. It's _talking_ giant bugs that throw me. Something about having the blood-sucking process described to you beforehand is just wrong."

"It _slurps_, too," Ginny remarked plaintively. "I could hear it eating the graphorns."

"Ick."

"Definitely," Ginny agreed. 

Ron looked nauseated.

"Although I suppose in a way a talking giant bug with perfect table manners would be even creepier. I keep imagining it spinning itself a fresh napkin, or something."

Ginny blinked. So did Harry and Hermione. "I think," Hermione said slowly, "that you've just edged from creepy right into surreal."

"Sorry. Long day."

"That's all right." Ginny reached up and patted his hand. "It was a very interesting mental image."

"So," Tom said, "what've you got planned for tomorrow? Taming a dragon? Or something simple, like becoming the first Hogwarts student ever to be Minister of Magic?" He grinned. "After all, now you've got a reputation to live up to."

"Dragons are Charlie's department. Although I suppose making Draco Malfoy behave would be _really_ impressive...."

Tom grimaced. "You're right. Try for the Ministry first, it'd be a good warmup. That's the worst thing about coming 'back' here this many years later."

Ginny blinked at him and propped herself up on her elbows. "Malfoy is? Wait. Which one, and is this about that visit?"

""Both. Yes. Or no." Tom sighed. "Slytherin didn't used to be this way. Oh, sure, we were always sneaky, always a little more wary of students with Muggle ancestry... but now, I'd be willing to bet half the house would at least consider signing up with the next power-hungry Dark Wizard. One of them might very well _be_ the next power-hungry Dark Wizard, given a few years. And I bet I know exactly where to place the blame for that, too."

The Gryffindors looked at one another somewhat uncomfortably. If it hadn't been like that when Tom started, they had a pretty good idea where to put the blame too, but they didn't quite like to say it. (All right, so nobody quite liked to say it, resulting in assorted and varyingly silly circumlocutions, but it was especially awkward to say around Tom.)

"The last power-hungry Dark Wizard?" Ginny finally suggested wryly. 

Tom quirked one corner of his mouth up in a wry smile. "Don't know what I can do about the older ones, but I've been trying to help the first-years along as much as I can on the quiet. The shy ones, like that little Peony Parkinson -- I've mentioned her to you, I think, Ginny, she was the one who thought of charming the chameleons into staying the same color -- well, I'm trying to get her out of the shadow of that sister of hers."

He propped his chin on one hand. "I remember the older ones talking, my first year. Time was, all the best diplomats used to come out of Slytherin, and a lot of Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers too."

"They do say Snape wants that job," Harry remarked. 

"I don't know. I can't see him giving up Potions." Hermione looked thoughtful. "Aside from taking away points from Gryffindor and the occasional matter of life and death, it seems to be the only thing I've ever seen him enthusiastic about."

"I can see diplomats," Ginny said thoughtfully, not paying a great deal of attention to the absent Potions Master. Even the evil Tom had been very charming when he chose; that had been the problem. Part of it. It was probably simply a matter of trying to do that instead of making an effort to be as obnoxious as possible.

"Anyway," Tom said, "sorry. Didn't mean to go off like that -- I've just been thinking, lately, that if I can't apologize to everyone, I can at least... try to fix things."

"Don't apologize," Harry said, "at least, certainly not for the speech." He grinned. "And it wasn't you who did the rest of it, so don't try to apologize for that either. But trying to fix things still sounds like a good idea." He shook his head a little. "I don't think I ever realized Slytherin _hadn't_ always had that reputation." 

"That's part of the problem! We're in the second generation of largely bad seeds. You ask me, the Ministry didn't do nearly as good a job as it should've cleaning up after... Voldemort."

Both Weasleys flinched. Colin and Hermione didn't as much, and Harry... just didn't. "Probably not. I don't... really know whether they _could_ have done better though." 

"Eh, maybe. We're the ones saddled with the results, though."

"True." 

"I think," Ginny said suddenly, "that you probably _could_ get some of the older ones to listen to you if you tried."

"Maybe. It's harder to tell, with them, though, and second-years don't have a lot of influence. There's some of the seventh-years even Malfoy doesn't try anything around."

"Mm. I suppose you'd know." 

"Not that it wouldn't be nice if I could, though. I could do a lot better if I had somebody senior backing me."

"...Well, they can't all be bad, can they?"

"They can't?" Ron muttered.

"...I hadn't really thought about it."

Ginny removed the pillow from behind her head and threw it at her brother, then resumed. "Well, you're the one who estimated about half would consider turning to the Dark Side. Which would mean half wouldn't consider it, presumably. Of course, figuring out which is which would be the hard part, wouldn't it?"

Tom nodded. "I meant I hadn't seriously thought about trying them, because of that. Not without a fair time to watch and try to work it out. And there's.... That's another thing: I can't do it all at once. Partly because I really _can't_, and partly because... well, it wouldn't do any good to split the House down the middle."

"No." She tilted her head and sat up the rest of the way, just in time for her brother to return the pillow-whacking. "Particularly since the ones who _wouldn't_ consider it aren't the ones you really want to influence, are they?"

"Right. At either end of the spectrum. I want the undecided ones -- or, well, the ones who would be undecided. The trouble is, I can't think of a way to bring up the subject without everybody looking at me funny because I'm twelve and I remember the 1940s. It's too bad we don't have a more... active... History of Magic professor."

"Well," Hermione said, "at least he's dedicated." 

"I suppose he has tenure." Tom grinned. "But he isn't much help."

"Dedicated." Harry shook his head. "He's _dead_. I think that goes beyond dedicated. And to think I used to think haunted houses were imaginary. You're right, though. Maybe Dumbledore."

"He doesn't carry as much weight with Slytherin as he used to after last year. Or, er, the year before, really."

Harry looked slightly grumpy about this. "At least everybody _expects_ him to remember the 1940s, though." He paused, then blinked and closed his mouth on what would have been his next word. Hagrid. Hagrid would remember that time -- it couldn't have all gone sour in two years, could it? -- but he'd been the one to warn Harry about Slytherin in the first place. 

Understandable, Harry supposed. Getting expelled for something that wasn't your fault would probably sour anybody on the culprit _and_ associates.

That was a good question, though. Whom WOULD Slytherins listen to? 

"Who _would_ Slytherins listen to?" he finally said aloud. 

"Snape," Ron suggested sourly.

"Older than him. He was at school the same time as my parents."

"I thought about him," Tom said. "Except he doesn't like me, so he wouldn't listen to me."

"There's a Slytherin Snape doesn't like? What did I miss?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Or is this only after you drenched him?"

"No, it was before that, although that certainly didn't help. And in case you were wondering, dumping a potion onto the head of your House is a bad idea. No, I think it's... an older grudge. Though I don't know about what."

"Weird." 

Ginny frowned at Tom suddenly. "Consequences worse than you were planning?"

Tom shook his head reassuringly. "Nothing I couldn't handle. A dressing-down in front of the entire House and some extra private detention."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "That sounds ominous." 

"Only if you consider six hours of cleaning glass tubing ominous."

"Depends on what was in it before you cleaned it." She seemed generally reassured, though. 

Tom elected not to mention the slug slime/bat guano mixture that had congealed in the bottom of one cauldron. "So, any other ideas? And can I maybe ask that you guys work on your end of the problem? You've got more pull than I do anyway, and everybody expects Hermione to spout historical trivia at every opportunity. Just... _focus_ the trivia a little bit. Draw attention to, I don't know, the way Hogwarts _didn't_ always change Dark Arts professors every year."

Hermione smiled sweetly at him. "I could give you a list of them. With dates of employ." 

"Please don't," said Harry.

Tom, to his credit, only looked slightly alarmed. "Tell the Gryffindors instead. I already know most of the Slytherin ones -- been doing some research on my own."

"Extra history lectures in the common room?" Colin asked. "You've decided you don't like us after all, haven't you, Tom." 

He kept his face utterly straight until Hermione snatched the pillow and smacked him with it. 

Tom snickered at Colin, then ducked a pillow-swipe of his own. "Trade you Malfoy for Hermione, lectures and all?"

"No bloody way," Colin replied with a grin. 

"So if I can put up with hourly paeans of self-glorification, you can stand a little more education."

"Although," Ron interjected thoughtfully, "the idea of having Malfoy surrounded...." 

"Oh, and you'd throw me to the wolves for it? I mean snakes?" Hermione demanded of Ron. Her mouth was twitching, though. 

"But we know you can take care of yourself," he told her gravely.

"I thought," Ginny said to Tom, "it was more often than that." 

"He's probably averaging," Hermione suggested. "Surely Malfoy has to sleep occasionally."

"It is. I just leave the room every so often."

"Okay." Ginny shook her head. "Entertaining as it is, I don't think mocking Malfoy is exactly productive in terms of inter-House relations."

"True."

She looked thoughtful. "I don't think I exactly qualify as influential.... What you said about Peony and the chameleons, though.... It could be interesting to work on my color-_changing_ charm with her. Although we have a Malfoy problem again, if she told her sister and she told him." 

"I... doubt she would. They don't talk much. Peony's _very_ bright, and small for her age, and Pansy is... well, not. Or at least, she doesn't choose to show off her brain and she tends to come across as bigger than she is. They don't get on."

"Would Peony be interested, though? It sounds like she might, but the only specific indication I have is her idea about the chameleons." Ginny grinned sheepishly. "She sounds nice enough from what you say, but that doesn't automatically translate to wanting to play with color-charms."

"Well, I'd have to talk to her. She's very shy, and easily intimidated -- having Pansy for a sister can't be much fun -- but I think if I invited her to one of our study sessions the first time instead of just sending her to beard the Gryffindor in her lair, so to speak, she might go for it. She's honestly at least a year ahead in several subjects, so it's not like she'd be out of her depth."

Shy and easily intimidated? That sounded like... well... her, her first year, away from everything familiar and awfully confused. Although in all fairness she hadn't been like that with her brothers before, as a rule. "Sounds good. Easier for me with you around, too, to tell the truth...." 

"What I'd really like to do is introduce her to Hermione, eventually. And maybe a couple of the Ravenclaws, but I don't know any of them very well. But that's a little further off, once she's managed to find some self-confidence."

Ginny laughed a bit. "Well, I am definitely less intimidating than Hermione." 

Hermione, for her part, looked a bit disconcerted, but offered, "I can talk to some of the Ravenclaws... say, in Arithromancy." 

"That'd be a help, thanks. I didn't mean any offense, it's just, well, Peony's _very_ shy."

"Of a Muggle-born?" Hermione muttered. She had been actively not getting along with Pansy of late.

"Of anyone, pretty much. She mostly goes from her room to classes and back -- I think the time with the chameleons was the first time she'd ever spoken at meals."

Hermione felt slightly ashamed of herself, even if sneering at Muggle-borns _did_ seem to be some sort of official pastime for most Slytherins. Tom, admittedly, did not do this except to mock the others. And apparently Peony barely spoke to anyone, regardless of ancestry, which was at least even-handed. "That explains why I don't think I've seen her since Sorting." Cute little thing, though. She'd been surprised to see her go to Slytherin, somehow.

"Yes, well, the two of you would probably get along, if I can work her around to the idea. She's a little in awe of you on top of everything else, though, so don't hold your breath."

Hermione looked slightly bemused. "All right." 

"Do they have any _other_ sisters?" Ginny asked suddenly. "And are they also named for p-flowers?"

"I hope not," Harry muttered.

"Peony hasn't mentioned any, but we haven't talked that much yet."

Ginny looked at Harry a bit oddly. "Why do you hope not?"

"Because," he explained, "my aunt's name is Petunia."

Madam Pomfrey returned at that point and scattered the other students to check Ginny's response to treatment. "The venom's gone," she announced after a moment. "Good as new. Try to be careful, now." 

Tom snorted softly and muttered "A careful Weasley? That'll be the day."

Ron laughed. "You haven't met Percy, have you?"

"Just briefly, at that Quidditch match. Seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. Right then."

Ginny nodded and slid off the bed. "Come on, though, Tom." She arched an eyebrow. "I want to see how that writing charm works." 


	4. Flowering

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction based on the Harry Potter books by J. K. Rowling. No undue claim nor any material profit is intended._

**Life Study  
by Alan Sauer and Persephone  
Chapter 4**

Tuesday afternoon Tom slipped away back to the Slytherin common room. Most of the older students had a class at this hour, but first- and second-year Slytherins had a coinciding free period; he had finished the History of Magic essay that had most of his classmates haunting the library, and since _they_ were occupied, perhaps the place was quiet enough... aah, yes, there was Peony Parkinson in a corner behind a stack of books. He walked over and sat in a nearby chair. "Hullo, Peony. Charms homework?"

She didn't quite jump but did look up sharply, then nodded. "I think it's going well." 

Tom smiled. "Well, only to be expected. I used that color-freezing charm of yours in one of my extra sessions in Magical Creatures -- it worked great."

Peony brightened. "Did it? That's good." 

Tom nodded. "Ginny -- that's Ginny Weasley, Hagrid has her supervising the extra practice -- was particularly impressed. She's been working on something similar, just the other way around, changing colors instead of keeping them the same."

Peony half-smiled. It was nice to have impressed another student, though she wasn't sure she wanted the attention from Gryffindors.... "That sounds interesting."

"Well... the reason I bring it up is, we've been studying together for some other subjects too-like Potions, in particular. It's been a big help. And I was wondering if you might want to join us occasionally. It's not like you need the help in class, obviously, but it'd be a chance to work with some of the second-year material -- and, well, you wouldn't have to worry about sneaking your study periods in when the common room was empty." Tom shrugged. "It's no pressure, you can say no if you want. I just thought it might be fun."

Peony hesitated. "I... don't usually study with anybody. Wouldn't I bother you?" The Weasley girl she knew _of_, but not much _about_ that wasn't just hearsay. Tom was always nice, though, which was fortunate since he had a habit of noticing she was there even when she was busy. He was one of very few other students who were aware of her quiet working ahead.

"No, I shouldn't think so. Remember, we started this for Magical Creatures, so we've got kind of a high disturbance threshold." Tom grinned. "And it's always a good idea to have an independent point of view around. D'you know how many other people thought of applying Charms lessons to Care of Magical Creatures?"

"...No?"

"Nobody. Pretty much everybody was just trying to tackle them. If you've got any more ideas like that, I know I'd like to hear them. And Ginny would too."

Peony felt slightly daunted, but said, "It sounds like it could be helpful...." Getting a good look at what the second-years were really doing would be nice, too.

"And fun, too, don't forget. Part of the reason I pitched the idea to Ginny was, I've seen you all by yourself a lot, and I think you two would get along pretty well."

"She is a Gryffindor," Peony pointed out a bit uncertainly. Of course, that didn't seem to prevent Ginny from studying with Tom -- or Tom from being on good terms with the cluster of Gryffindors usually surrounding Harry Potter.

Tom shrugged. "If this ends up forging some more ties between the houses, I won't say I'd be unhappy. Slytherin has... well, you've run into our reputation by now, I'm sure, and I'd kinda like to show people we're not all, say, Malfoy, or Jonas Derrick. And show Slytherins that the other houses aren't the enemy."

Considering nobody but Slytherin ever cheered for Slytherin no matter whom they were playing.... Peony shrugged. "Well, she can't mind it too much or she wouldn't be working with you, would she." She smiled. Impishly. Then again, Tom was a boy and admittedly... rather fit. Even if everyone said the Weasley girl had a crush on Harry Potter, that might not _hurt_.

Tom grinned back. "Well, no. I'm starting off easy, with people who already get along with me. And the whole thing is just a new idea, it started off as 'Gee, nobody in Slytherin wants to work with me and I'm failing two of my classes.'"

"I'd heard you were at the top of most of them."

"Well... near, anyway. But I was absolutely hopeless in Magical Creatures, and Professor Snape kept putting Ginny and me together in Potions with... explosive results; she used to get a little nervous."

Peony nodded. She'd heard some of the stories. "Why'd she calm down?"

"We started talking instead of spilling things on each other." Tom grinned. "Worked amazingly well."

"And then started spilling things on Professor Snape instead?" Peony asked with a hint of disapproval. Nobody really believed that had been an accident, especially not once word got out that Creevey had pictures.

Tom coughed. "Well, only the once. And he could have picked different lab partners for us any day, so we figured a little payback for my temporary second nose wouldn't hurt anybody."

"I'm surprised he didn't after that."

"He couldn't prove it hadn't been an accident. I mean, there'd been a wealth of evidence that we were accident-prone, and we were sure to be very meek and elaborately careful about procedures for the next few weeks. And then Ginny's brothers pulled that stunt with the dissolving cauldron. Which was completely unrelated, I might add. They'd been planning it since last year, or so I hear."

"Clever timing, though, if they wanted to take attention off their sister." Must be nice to have siblings like that. Well, when they weren't after _you_.... 

"Yeah, it was. I kind of wish I had brothers like that sometimes. 'Course, then they switch her wand for one that turns into a mouse, and I realize there are benefits to orphanhood as well." Tom chuckled. 

Peony giggled quietly and resolved not to draw the attention of the Weasley twins. "When are you planning to get together next, then?"

"Ah... Tomorrow, after classes -- an hour after most, since we do have Magical Creatures -- in the library." Tom's face lit up. "You'll be coming then? Wonderful. I'll be sure and tell Ginny."

"What should I bring?" Peony gestured at the stack of textbooks and references she had been hiding behind.

"Ah... let's see, I think we'll be doing Transfiguration, Ginny's got a test on Friday and I have it next week. You probably don't have to bring anything -- Hermione Granger tends to just happen to be in the neighborhood with a book or five, suspiciously often -- but whatever you think would be helpful."

Peony closed her mouth quickly before an "eep" could escape. "Oh. Okay. I'll see you then."

"Great. Looking forward to it."

*****

Upon finishing her classes on Wednesday, Peony had hurried up to her dorm room and then slipped into the library bearing three books -- her course text for transfigurations, a reference on history and theory, and one that was not in fact a book at all, but an attractively disguised carrying -- case for a small sewing kit and assorted other small items that seemed transfigurable, like a paperweight, twigs, and a handful of odd buttons. 

There was also a handkerchief which had at some point been dyed a thoroughly depressing shade of brownish-blue and embroidered in a peculiar yellow-green that did not go with it at all. It seemed like a good object for the practice of color-charms. It certainly couldn't be made much worse, although whoever had stained it with purple glitter-ink seemed to have been trying before, apparently, having given it up entirely and stuffed it into the corner of a chair in the common room.

She looked around the library and finally discovered Tom and Ginny at a corner table when Tom waved.

"Peony!" Tom smiled and pointed to an empty chair. "Glad you could make it. Have a seat, you can help me convince the stubborn Gryffindor that visualizing the result of a transfiguration is more important than pronouncing the words correctly. I still say," he turned back to Ginny, "that there's wiggle-room in the incantation if you've got the image in your head strongly enough. Look at Animagi, they don't even need the words."

"It still matters what you say if you do say anything," Ginny argued. "Mispronouncing the spell would be like... pointing your wand at the wrong object. Assuming you're using a wand, before you bring up the Animagi again!"

"I'm not saying it doesn't matter, just that it's secondary. Look at... oh, most of the first-years. Even when they do get the words right, the spell doesn't always take. They're not visualizing hard enough. Peony, I'm sure you've seen that."

Peony nodded, looking warily at the librarian. The debate, however fervent, seemed to be kept at a low enough level to satisfy Madam Pince, so she added softly, "But most of them don't pronounce it right either when they're having trouble, so it's hard to tell."

"Well, maybe we'll get a chance to test it out. I suppose we'd better work on the test material first though. What'd Professor McGonagall say we were going to be doing again?"

"We're having a fabric-to-metal and reverse theme for the next couple of lessons," Ginny replied, consulting her notes. "Especially with patterns...." She frowned. "I suppose you may be right on visualization after all. There's no way to specify some of these without practically making a speech." 

"There's been a general compression trend over the years -- I read somewhere that centuries ago wizards needed a lot more preparation and verbal tricks to do what we do with a couple of gestures and a few words. Actually... hm. Could we leverage both those color charms into this? As a reference, maybe."

Ginny tilted her head. "How so?" 

"Well, if we're going to be trying for patterns, and you have to somehow describe the new color you want, or the relationship between it or the old color, or something -- how does that work, anyway? Your spell, I mean. Obviously we're supposed to be transfiguring the actual dye in the cloth, for class, but maybe there's something. I'm just kind of throwing out ideas."

Ginny considered. "I generally use Chroma and the name of the color-it probably is technically a transfiguration charm to some degree. I'm usually pretty specific about color names, so I wasn't thinking as much about visualization, but I suppose it's what I think of as... well, pink for instance." She looked at Peony. "How about yours?" 

"_Chroma quiesce_, at least for now, and... tell it not to change. I don't think I can explain it any better...."

"Maybe the telling it not to change is a visualization, or, that's not quite the right word. An act of will, maybe? Can you feel it when they try to change?"

"I... don't think so. Could you?" Peony looked down at her closed box-book. "I think... telling it what to do is separate. Partly. You can imagine something clearly and say words without getting the magic right, I think, at least I can, and the problem seems to be... getting the magic done. Telling the object of the spell what to do and getting the power to it."

Tom scratched his jaw thoughtfully. "Which is maybe where the wands enter the picture... to make the power transfer easier, or even possible, although there are cases where you don't need one. Maybe that's why transfiguration is particularly tricky, because you have to keep the power flowing steadily while the object keeps changing all the time?"

"I always figured it was because you were changing the nature of something instead of just, say, moving it around or mixing it with things or adding attributes," Ginny said thoughtfully. "I mean, in a lot of other areas there are spells for things that you could accomplish without one -- not all of them are like that, obviously -- but most transfigurations you couldn't do by other means."

"That's true. Although I've often wondered if a Muggle could mix a potion and get the same results as a wizard would -- I mean, look at all those folk remedies, some of them even use the same ingredients. Maybe it's a mix of problems." 

Both girls looked at him blankly for a moment, but didn't ask about the folk remedies. "Snape would be appalled at the idea, wouldn't he?" Ginny remarked with a grin. "Then again, I heard when he was trying to pass for a Muggle once-I have no idea why-he said he was a chemistry teacher, and Hermione says that's close enough."

Tom laughed. "I wonder what he did that? Most wizards don't seem to want anything to do with the Muggle world, even if they aren't particularly prejudiced. ...Anyway, though, maybe we should figure out what specifically gives us trouble with transfiguration? Like, what's the worst you've ever botched one, and why do you think it happened? I know mine -- it was in my first year, I was supposed to be turning a needle into a toothpick. I kept thinking of Quidditch -- they'd had a demonstration -- and the needle ended up flying out the window."

"Did you ever find it?" Ginny asked with a grin as soon as she had finished muffling laughter. "Maybe it turned into a tiny broomstick instead." She considered, then winced. "Mine was first-year, too -- I was supposed to turn a quill into a thistle." 

Tom snickered. "What happened to it?"

"...It turned into a bloody rooster feather." The whisper was a great deal quieter than the library required, and 'bloody' was not an expletive. "I'm... sorry. But can we drop the reasoning?"

Tom blinked a few times, then his eyebrows shot up. "Right. Um. Peony, how about you?"

"Um... on our first live transfiguration, my snail flew away." She paused. "It was a ladybug at first." 

"So it sounds like visualization and, um," he glanced almost imperceptibly over at Ginny, "distractions, are the big problem."

"I know what a snail looks like," Peony murmured. "Of course, now I know what one with red and black polka-dot wings looks like, too."

Ginny, despite her own topic, giggled at the image. Quietly.

"So what tripped you up, then?"

The girl considered this carefully. "I'm pretty sure I pronounced it right. I started learning Latin early enough. So... either I didn't tell it convincingly enough to change, or I was still thinking too much about the ladybug before the change and not keeping them separate."

"So... should we practice on something? Try to, I dunno, clear our heads beforehand?"

"Might be a good idea," Ginny agreed.

"I brought some things," Peony volunteered softly.

"Oh good," Tom said. "I was about to start rummaging through my pockets for lint. What did you bring?"

Peony opened the disguised box, flipped the cover page, and handed it to him wordlessly.

"Oh, neat. I like the box. Let's see...." Tom sifted through the contents. "Some twigs, a bunch of buttons, and... what is that?" Tom viewed the paperweight from a number of angles. It appeared to be some sort of virulently orange seashell on which had been painted 'Pansys Stuf Do Not Tuch!!' He raised an eyebrow at Peony. "Should we bother transfiguring this back afterward?"

"Well... she's not likely to remember it exists unless she sees it." Pansy hadn't touched the thing since she'd learned to spell properly.

"Let's leave it however we transfigure it, then. Couldn't look worse. What should we start with, and what should we try to aim for?"

"Let's get rid of the seashell first," Ginny murmured. "Maybe... hm... a nice vase?"

"Anything that isn't that orange. Give it a shot."

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, concentrated, and tapped the shell with her wand as she whispered the spell. 

The seashell grew into a gracefully curved jade-green vase and Pansy's misspelled claim on it expanded and distorted into an ornate pattern in thin golden lines. "Well... I didn't really have the trim planned, but I think it's pretty. I was thinking about... this vase I sneaked a look at and held in a shop when I was seven." She grinned sheepishly. "I wasn't supposed to be handling the merchandise in case I dropped something, which is probably why it's still so vivid."

"Yeah, that worked great." Tom picked up one of the twigs. "Let's see if I can get a flower to put in it."

"But please, not a namesake," Peony whispered almost inaudibly.

Tom cleared his mind as best as he could, then tried to scrape up his most vivid memory of a flower. There weren't very many, though, and Peony's whisper caught him just as he began to say the spell. His wand emitted a curious squeak, and the twig turned into a rather sad, dried dandelion with half the puffs missing. "Shoot. I was hoping for a tulip."

"You could always try it again. Although I like dandelions," Ginny suggested, eyeing his wand with some surprise. "But what was that noise? -- You haven't been near Fred or George lately, have you?"

"Not really... I think what happened is when Peony said 'namesake' I remembered this kid in the orphanage who used to collect dandelions. We called him Mouse. I don't recall why." Tom flicked his wand with a forefinger. "I think it's all right."

"Ah. Why'd he collect dandelions?" Ginny asked. Peony was looking at Tom curiously, but if Ginny was going to ask for details she decided she needn't. 

"He liked them. And there weren't really any other flowers around."

"Not any?" Peony was startled enough for the question to escape. As might possibly have been guessed from her name and her sister's, her parents were sufficiently fond of flowers that she couldn't imagine not growing up surrounded by them.

"Well, no, the orphanage was in a city. Mouse used to get the dandelions from cracks in the pavement, vacant lots, that sort of thing. I wonder what happened to him."

"There wasn't a garden or anything?" Peony bit her lip. "Ah... sorry. Maybe if you remember his real name you could find him... somehow." 

"He'd be an old man now, probably. It would be... awkward." Tom smiled a little sadly, then tapped the dandelion with his wand again; this time, it burst into full bloom, as fresh as if newly-picked and vividly yellow. "Anyway... what should we do next?"

Peony picked up a stray brown seed that had fallen off with its bit of fluff before the second transfiguration. "Do you mind if I plant this? I'm curious." 

"Go ahead."

Ginny looked puzzled. "There are a lot of dandelions around. Or do you just want an indoor one?"

Peony shrugged and twirled the seed in her fingers. "Transfiguring plants can be... tricky, you know. Even if it looks like you got it right, sometimes one won't take root or grow again... you can transfigure a plant in the ground and unless you get it just right it might look fine, but die in the next few months. I just want to see if it works." She darted a look at Tom. "No offense, I mean...."

"No, none taken. I'm curious too. Although I think it'd be tough to tell, if it doesn't sprout, whether it was because I transfigured it wrong or because it was all old and dried."

"I suppose... though it's, well, a dandelion. They're tough." She grinned. "Still, if it does sprout, it means you did a really good job even if it wasn't a tulip."

"That's true. Of course, now I'm really curious; my pride's on the line here, after all." Tom grinned. "Such as it is."

Peony shrugged and licked the seed. Tom and Ginny both blinked at her, and she turned pink. "I thought I should go ahead and get it wet."

Tom shook his head wonderingly. "Well, it's your seed. And your turn, too, I think."

"I'm... not sure what to try." She bit her lip, then picked up a twig and tapped it, chewing on her lower lip. At first it didn't look as if anything had happened; then they realized it was smoother and the little fork at one end had become the bristles for a miniature broomstick.

"Oh, neat. Does it fly?"

"...I don't think so, but it could probably be charmed to." 

Tom hmmed. "Well, it looks like we have the basics down pretty well... should we try another color change? Anybody who doesn't feel up to the challenge of Peony's handkerchief, I think I've got some spare socks in one of my robe pockets."

"Ah, but are you sure you want to risk them?" Ginny asked, eyes dancing. Then she paused. "And why are you carrying around extra socks? Expecting puddles?"

"Quidditch practice. Flint has us doing adverse weather conditions again. So, not so much puddles as vertical sheets of rain."

"What... fun. Oh dear. I'm almost tempted to come watch." She grinned. "Of course, I'd probably be recognized and either hexed or hauled bodily out of the stands."

Tom laughed. "Oh, I'm sure it's all kinds of entertaining from the stands... but yes, you're probably right. Especially as Malfoy's usually hanging around hoping somebody wants him for an alternate, or something -- fat chance of that."

"He doesn't fly badly; he's quite good at that," Peony protested softly. "He's just not as good at Seeker. Beater, maybe...." 

Ginny stared at her. "Beater? Malfoy?" 

"He's vicious enough for it. I don't think he's quite big enough yet, though."

"Hey! Fred and George are not --" Ginny paused. "Never mind."

"Sorry, I didn't mean... I'm more used to our Beaters, is all."

"It's all right. I stopped to think about their sense of humor and decided I couldn't really argue! Although, your Beaters definitely seem... more determined to injure somebody." 

"Different playstyles," Tom said. "Flint prefers... a bit more direct methods than I might use, but he's captain."

"Well, he's the one who wound up with a black eye when George finally lost his temper about his 'direct methods' last time." Ginny smiled wryly and glanced at Peony. "So. Not arguing."

"Healed up inside three days without going to the hospital wing -- I swear, he's made out of his namesake. And I overheard him in the locker room saying he hoped it meant the Gryffindors were finally going to quit being soft. A very... singular mind, has Marcus Flint."

Ginny made a note to suggest that the twins might consider showing Flint what it could mean when Gryffindors made a particular effort not to be 'soft,' but didn't mention it. "Who do you think'll be captain next?" 

"Adrian Pucey, maybe. I don't know most of the team well outside practice."

"Are you planning to try at some point?"

Tom grinned. "Well, Harry's probably going to be Gryffindor captain someday, and I can't let him grab all the glory for himself, now can I? Won't be until I've a bit more seniority on the team and people are more used to me, though."

"You do still seem to be a major topic of gossip."

"I'm a Slytherin who pals around with Gryffindors; I'd be a topic of gossip even without my... history. Although, if they're mostly talking about my associations, I don't mind."

"Well, I was thinking of the grownups. Mum mentioned it last time she owled me."

Tom blinked. "That wasn't that Howler the other day, was it? I thought that was over at the Gryffindor table, but Crabbe and Goyle were having a belching contest so I couldn't make out what it said."

"They can drown out a Howler?! And no, that was for Neville. Why on Earth would Mum send me a Howler about you?"

"Well... your brother wasn't too pleased at first."

"Oh, right. Well, that's Ron. And... well, it was kind of sudden. He hadn't been too bothered about Harry," she did not say _looking out for you_, "being friends with you." 

"Harry's got a prior record when..." Tom almost said _I_ "...things get out of hand. I wouldn't have blamed your mother for worrying."

"She worried a bit, but not in a Howler. Like I said, she's been hearing things. Of course Dad told her about what happened the first day, when he got home, and I owled her that we'd started working together and why -- some of why -- it seemed only fair since I'd cried at her about... Potions and so on... before."

"I wouldn't call that gossip, though," Tom pointed out delicately.

"Oh, no. But obviously everybody wound up hearing about it. Apparently you're being Discussed."

"That sounds like a capital letter. Capital letters can be ominous."

"It's not too bad.... Of course, there are some people who think you're some sort of bizarre ploy by You-Know-Who, but Dumbledore is very sure you aren't. Other than that... well... the story got around and people are curious."

Tom winced. "Oh good, public celebrity, my very favorite thing."

Peony looked at him curiously. "I thought you liked attention."

"Well... I would like the students to be impressed with me, because I want to be... a positive example of a Slytherin. But adult attention outside Hogwarts? I'm not exactly looking for interviews just yet."

"More likely intent looks and possibly very strange questions, at this point," Ginny said comfortingly.

Tom smiled a little weakly. "I'm just trying to ignore the world outside Hogwarts as much as I can, just now. I'm not looking forward to the end of the year."

"Why-_oh_." 

Tom scratched his jaw. "Exactly. I hope Professor Dumbledore comes up with something before... other people do. I keep expecting Malfoy to deliver an invitation from his father, or something."

Peony blinked. It hadn't occurred to her that Tom wouldn't know where he was spending the summer yet. And the Malfoy house was actually quite nice... but however much her sister liked Draco, some of the occupants, well, weren't always. Besides, if he was worried about being thought a ploy of the Dark Lord's, of course Tom wouldn't want to stay with someone suspected of having the sort of... _ties_... that were whispered about for Lucius. 

Ginny shuddered. "What a creepy thought." She hesitated for a moment. "Would you like to stay with us instead? I could ask Mum and Dad...."

Tom's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't... I mean, I wouldn't want to impose, or, or, make anybody uncomfortable, or anything."

Ginny blushed a brilliant shade of red. "Well, if you don't -- I mean -- I would have to ask them, but we had Harry for part of summer before last and I really don't think it would be a problem.... You'd probably have to share a room at least part of the time, but you do here...."

"Well, if your parents say yes, and Professor Dumbledore says yes... yeah, that would be a huge load off my mind, Ginny, thanks. I... really didn't expect this, I mean, wow."

"I'll owl them. Dad can ask Professor Dumbledore." She smiled. "Actually I think they were already planning to ask about not sending Harry back to the Dursleys, so he might be there too." And she was still blushing, though not quite as much. "We probably should have thought of it before, really, but I wasn't thinking you might not know...."

Tom shook his head, grinning. "And here I was picturing myself wandering around an abandoned orphanage, or something. Far cry from the beginning of the semester." Suddenly he blinked. "I'm sorry, Peony, we kind of went off-track for the study session. I... maybe should have warned you we meander a bit."

"That's all right." Peony dimpled suddenly. "It's interesting, although I could start wondering how you ever get anything done." She tilted her head. "Are you trying to hack off Lucius Malfoy particularly?"

"That's a bonus," Ginny said under her breath.

Tom nodded agreement with Ginny. "I met him, when he came Sunday about the attack. He was very polite, very solicitous, but he... looked at me. I don't quite know how to describe it. But I don't ever want to see that look again." Tom shivered. "Cold and... hungry."

Ginny glanced at Peony warily. "He probably wants your existence to be a trick," Ginny muttered. "And wherever you stay I don't think Dumbledore would let you wind up there."

"I hope not. He keeps sending Harry to stay with that aunt and uncle of his, though."

"I don't really know why. Something about blood relations, or so I heard, but it could have been rumor. With You-Know-Who gone though that might not matter anymore." Ginny grimaced. "They sound like the Malfoys in reverse, only Draco isn't bloated." A pause. "Except for the ego, I mean."

Tom chuckled. "They do at that."

Peony looked puzzled. "The reverse... how?"

"They think about wizards like the Malfoys think about Muggles." 

"...Don't most Muggles?"

Ginny buried her face in her hands. "_No_."

"Most Muggles don't know about wizards," Tom said quietly. "The Dursleys only do because of Harry's mother."

"But the ones that do...."

"Like Hermione's parents?" Ginny jumped in. "Or Justin Finch-Fletchley's, or Colin's, or Seamus Finnigan's father? No." 

Peony shrank back a bit. "Oh."

Tom made quelling motions at Ginny. "They run the gamut, just like wizards do. Ginny, remember not everybody is as familiar with Muggles as you are, eh? Peony's not the enemy either." 

"I know, I'm sorry...." Ginny sighed. "I didn't mean to sound like it was your fault, Peony, it's just frustrating. I'm not even that familiar, really, I hardly know anything... but it's the people in the Ministry who think like that who won't see why we should be worried if what we do affects Muggles badly, so long as they don't know about it. I was... hurrying, not angry."

Peony managed a tiny smile. "I guess it's not just Slytherin families who get politics over the dinner table, is it?"

"Different kind of politics, I expect," Tom said with a smile of his own. "Ginny's father works for the Ministry, though, so I bet she hears a lot of things."

"It gets, um, lively." Ginny's face was suffused again.

"I'd think six brothers would do that on their own." 

Tom grinned. "Let's see, two of them are Fred and George, and one of the older ones works with dragons. I think you've got a point, Peony."

That won a bit of a laugh from Ginny; Peony felt rather relieved. She supposed the Gryffindor really might _not_ have meant to jump down her throat -- perhaps with six older brothers, she had to act like that to be heard? "Well, he doesn't usually bring the dragons home." 

"Pansy brings one every now and then," Peony remarked innocently.

Tom blinked. "Where does she find them?"

"I said one." 

Ginny started laughing again, tears coming to her eyes with the effort of keeping it quiet.

Tom blinked at Ginny, then at Peony again, then suddenly started snickering. "Oh, do you mean Malfoy? I didn't think they were quite that close."

"Enough to visit, anyway. No secret she fancies him, either."

Tom snorted. "I don't think Malfoy fancies anything but his own reflection." 

"He's a boy." Peony shrugged. "He might grow out of it." 

"Erm, ouch? I have the feeling I should be offended...." Tom shrugged and grinned. "Right then, back to Transfiguration."

"Let's try that handkerchief Peony brought, or mine." Ginny laughed. "That way we can spare your socks."

*****


	5. Ready or Not

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction based on the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling. No undue claim nor any material profit is intended._

**Life Study  
by Alan and Persephone  
Chapter 5**

Ginny carried her books and a rather nice little metal mirror that had previously been one of her handkerchiefs back to Gryffindor Tower, said "Neatnik" (she suspected someone of teasing Percy) to Sir Cadogan, and stepped inside. 

Something smelled very strange. Sharp. Ginny puzzled over the odor for a moment and then spotted Colin Creevey brewing something carefully in the fireplace; there was a purple globe eating up most of the odor, but some bits were still escaping to wander the room.

"Hi. Did your roommates make you stop brewing upstairs?"

He looked up and grinned. "Oh, hi, Ginny. Yes -- they said after that last Potions essay, they don't want to watch anybody doing one for _fun_."

"Hmm. Well, do you remember Tom talking about starting a study group?"

"After you rode the acromantula? Everything else from that day kind of pales in comparison, but yes, I think so."

She grinned. "Well... I thought you might like to come. We just tried inviting one more person this first time, since it's Peony Parkinson and she seems to be a little shy, but we want to get more people involved."

Colin nodded. "Sounds like fun. And might as well keep House parity, eh? How'd it go today?"

"Well, I think. We worked on Transfiguration and played with some color charms -- and talked Quidditch and politics a little bit, but we really did get quite a bit done."

"Well, just tell me when, and I'll be there--" Colin suddenly glanced over Ginny's shoulder and brightened considerably. "Hi, Harry! Sorry about the smell, I'm almost done."

"Hi, Colin...." Harry eyed the cauldron askance. "Do I want to know?"

"Just another batch of developer. My roommates aren't all that keen on it just now."

"Oh."

Ginny took a deep breath and bit the bullet. "Harry," she began, "Colin and I were just talking about the study group. We're going to try to meet again early Saturday morning, if that works out; Tom wanted to know if you were coming."

"Saturday? Yeah, I think I will." He smiled. "Should be fun."

"Good. That's good. I'll let him know." She forced her eyes to look past him, at Ron and Hermione. "Er, are you two interested? Hermione, you've been a lot of help...."

"I've talked to some of the Ravenclaws, actually, like I said." Hermione came over and peered into Colin's cauldron with interest. "I had a few say they wouldn't mind coming once in a while or had younger friends who might try it, but mostly they already have things set up. Neville said he'd come, though, if you'd have him."

"Oh, well, of course we would!" Ginny looked around to see if Neville was present.

Behind Hermione, Ron grinned. "I'll just bet _Tom_ wanted to know.if Harry'd be there. I'll tag along as well; somebody ought to keep an eye on things. Neville's off mailing a letter to his Gran, if that's who you're looking for."

"He specifically said to ask Harry, since he might not see him before then," Ginny replied primly. "But I'm glad you'll be coming too."

"Got to keep you out of trouble, haven't I? Mum'd have my hide else."

"I'm perfectly fine. Do you think we should ask anybody else?"

"This is going to be a very odd study group," Colin remarked. "What is it -- one first-year, three second-years, and now four third-years? Plus whoever we don't know about yet from the other Houses."

Ginny shrugged. "Well, we can all work on the things we need to work on, and help each other out. It's as much for... getting along with each other as for the studying, remember."

"The Great Work of Making Slytherins Likeable," Ron said dryly. "Should be fun, as long as Malfoy isn't there."

*****

"Well," Tom said a bit disconsolately, "looking on the bright side, Malfoy wouldn't be caught dead there."

"_I_ wasn't going to ask him," Peony replied. "And it's not that bad, we had a few maybes."

"Well... a few." He sighed. "This doesn't bode well. I thought at least a few of them might listen."

"We're neither of us very highly-regarded. I'm quiet, and you're . . . you. It's a good idea, but maybe it just needs a little more time."

"There is something backwards," Tom replied darkly, "about the fact that I can get more Gryffindors to listen to me than Slytherins."

"What about the Ravenclaws? And Hufflepuffs?"

"Apparently they have their own arrangements already. Which I would've expected of the Ravenclaws, and probably _should_ have of the Hufflepuffs--but either way they're not going out of their way because a Slytherin asked nicely."

"So... it's just us and the Gryffindors Saturday."

"Looks like it. Harry's nice, and Hermione--and I've worked with Ron a bit; he's prickly, but Ginny can handle him. She said she was going to ask Colin Creevey, and I don't know who else." He cocked his head. "You all right with that?"

Peony opened her mouth, then closed it again and thinned her lips for a moment before starting over. "I think so," she said. "I can manage. But... aren't Hermione Granger and Colin Creevey two of the students who were Petrified last year? It's... odd. No one insisted on their working with... us."

Tom shrugged. "Hermione and I work pretty well together, and I don't know what Colin thinks of _me_ specifically but he's a friend of Ginny's." He raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't have thought you'd bring Hermione up as a potential problem, though, from what I've heard."

"It's not that I wouldn't like to work with her." Peony colored a bit. "She's... very impressive. Especially since she missed so much of that year and is _still_ doing so well. And it's good -- that they don't hold it against either of you, when you weren't responsible for it. It just isn't quite the group somebody might have predicted." She considered. "I suppose... there was already a connection, though." An arched eyebrow. "Maybe it's a Gryffindor trait. Face up to a reminder of your fears?"

Tom laughed. "Might be, at that. Colin didn't seem too nervous around me, though."

"I'm not sure I've ever seen him seem nervous. And he's hard to _miss_, getting everywhere with that Muggle camera."

"Even got a picture of Ginny on the acromantula." Tom chuckled. "No question he's in the right House."

"I think I'd hate that class. Why can't they have an advanced _Herbology_ course or something? I've been gardening since I was three."

"It's . . . interesting, once you get used to it. I'll admit I'd prefer tamer creatures to work with, but as long as you listen to him Hagrid's a good teacher. Even if he doesn't like you."

"He must at least be very enthusiastic, to offer the extra class that way. I suppose I'll find out, if I try it." She smiled. "And I'm going to go and revise for a while -- I'd like to be sure what the rest of you are talking about at the next meeting, and I'm not quite so far ahead in Potions."

"See you Saturday, then."

"I'll be there."

*****

Tom and Peony met in the Slytherin common room that Saturday morning and proceeded to the library by way of the Great Hall, careful to remove all traces of breakfast crumbs from their persons before entering. The Gryffindors hadn't yet arrived.

By ten minutes past the hour, Tom was starting to get worried.

By a quarter past, Peony was scowling. "They're either being awfully lazy or they decided it would be funny not to bother."

"Ginny wouldn't. Nor Harry." He touched the photo album, hidden in an inside pocket of his robe, for reassurance. "That's not something friends do."

"Well, they aren't _here_." Peony frowned more, though the expression was softening a little. "I think it's time to be either annoyed or worried. I suppose at best they overslept." She hesitated. "Granger does have circles under her eyes, as of last time I saw her."

"She's taking an insane schedule this term, I heard. And we'd already been doing a project on the side. But Ginny's never broken a promise to me before, that I know of."

"...Fine. But she still isn't _here_, so something's stopped her, so do we keep waiting or go and look?"

"Go and look. If they did oversleep, they'll probably head to the Great Hall for late breakfast."

"All right." Peony stood up and started piling her books back into her cauldron. They had planned to move to an empty classroom if they decided on any practicals; in the meantime, she might as well save the space. 

They had just stepped outside the library when they spotted Ginny pelting up the corridor toward them. "Tom," she gasped. "Peony. I'm sorry -- to be so late. And about everybody else. I only just remembered -- we've all been up since four --" She broke off and tried visibly to get control of her breathing. "Sirius Black's been captured."

*****

_To be elaborated upon soon, in "Grim Tidings."_


End file.
